


what you behold is no longer a word

by cloudydragon



Category: Dangan Ronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Multi, luckily he has kaede to kick his ass, saihara introspection, saihara is resigned to his weakness, watch as these kids end up being sociopaths and/or having crippling personality disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8554855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudydragon/pseuds/cloudydragon
Summary: Good detectives doubt themselves. Saihara is no exception.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "the prison school was an experiment to see how long these criminals could go without murdering each other and saihara’s the detective trainee sent to monitor it” headcanon fic. Set post Ch2.

Kaede is bright and determined and tries so hard, and despite himself Saihara wants so badly to see her safe, see her out, protect the girl who still thinks that her forgotten crime was small-scale, manslaughter at most. Of all people: Kaede Akamatsu, who still can’t admit to herself that she or anyone else is capable of murdering someone, even when she’s reminded of it day after day.

He thinks it starts when Kaede's claim that “None of us could possibly kill anyone!” peters out into unrecognisable dismay as their classmate explained why she'd been driven to murder, _I had to I had to I had to._ Saihara catches her face flickering at the desperate excuses, and watches her harden with resolve. During the investigation she'd been strong-willed and hopeful in a way that Saihara was hard-pressed not to help, when she asked so sincerely for it. For all her faltering during the trial, Kaede always tries again, like she was never hurt at all.

She doesn’t blame herself for the death, which is wise of her. Saihara has seen people fall for less.

Saihara knows this, because he’s the only one that remembers what they did.

No one else knows he knows, obviously. Rarely, someone will notice — that Saihara flinches back from an unexpected touch, that he never sleeps in the same location twice, that the smell of blood makes him retch reflexively before he gets himself under control again — and he knows they suspect something, but they say nothing.

Everyone is so kind. He didn't expect them to be. Saihara keeps his guard up (as though it will protect him) and waits to die.

 

Here is one of the things Saihara would prefer not to remember: curling up in an armchair just before Night Time, Gonta shaking him awake some time later. Saihara had seen his red eyes and the brown-sleeved hand reaching for him and had startled so badly he’d tipped onto the floor. Gonta had apologised, arms hovering at his sides as Saihara gingerly got to his feet, and urged him to stay for just a second only to push a sweet-smelling cup ("Lavender hot chocolate.") into his hands a minute later.

“You didn't have to,” Saihara had said before he left, averting his eyes as he stood in the kitchen doorway, and Gonta only quirked an eyebrow and said, “If there’s anything I can do to help, you can tell me.” and Saihara had looked up into his open face, murmured a _thank you_ , and felt another of his expectations break.

Another thing Saihara does not expect: they look at him, outside of the trials. It is nothing like he has ever experienced before: Toujou clucking that his skin is far too sallow against the monochrome of his clothes, Amami after the first trial offhandedly asking him how much he'd slept, Ouma fixing him with dark eyes and proclaiming that he needs to keep his strength up if he's going to properly assist them in the next investigation. When their gazes touch him they aren’t wary and distant but almost indulgent, like he’s one of them, someone that needs to be taken care of.

("We're looking out for you," Kaede corrects Saihara when he points this out, "We’re all looking out for each other." Her burning gaze echoes what she said after the first trial: _I won't let Monobear manipulate any of our classmates._ Saihara could not forget her furious declaration, even if he wanted to. Her drive draws him to Kaede like static to a summer storm.)

 

It is as though they believe Saihara to be the way they see themselves: incorruptible, good to the core, someone that can be beckoned with a _hey Saihara come and look at what Angie drew for you!_ and be laughed at, not unkindly, for the blush on his face. Not one of them has seen him as a threat since the start. And maybe it's justified, because Saihara knows he would never kill to escape — but that is only because he thought he would die first, and he could not bear to be found in contempt by any of them, knowing what he knows.

He never says this to anyone, not in those words. He knows for sure at least one person would cuff him for it (he can imagine what Tenko would say: "I _guess_ you're alright for a boy, but you can be so dumb sometimes— ") but he comes close one day, in the cafeteria, shuffling through prison files while Angie hums and mixes paints beside him. They are the only ones that still use the communal area instead of their own rooms, the silence between them only broken by the hum of Kiibo charging in a corner.

"Do you know what our classmates... think about me?" Saihara had said, abruptly, and in the frozen horror of waiting for her answer forced himself to meet her inquisitive eyes as she swivelled on her chair to look at him, clearly wondering why he'd ask. _This is silly, this is stupid, it doesn't mean **anything** -_

“Well, Angie thinks Saihara’s smart and kind and funny, and he always tries his best to help people! Kaede said to Angie once that she's really grateful for Saihara's advice!” She’d shot him a look clear as day, and he’d pulled down his cap to hide the flush spreading across his face.  
He's being trusted, and he's finding himself trusting them in return.

That’s what he’s feeling.

...

The issue is not really about how Saihara doesn’t deserve that trust, or whether these bright-eyed criminals should be trusting him as a detective, or, God forbid, Saihara's _feelings_ about it. The issue is that Saihara hadn't expected to live past the first trial after he'd revealed his talent. Whether everyone lives or dies is supposed to be out of his hands, and in the absence of any expectations he is floundering and useless. In retrospect this is just another way in which Saihara is a failure: if he was a true detective, he would have had no preconceptions. He should have come up with a way to advance the situation and move on.

Instead Saihara finds himself looking across to Kaede, who's completely engrossed in brushing out Shinguuji’s hair. On her left Ouma lounges against Amami’s shoulder, eyes half-closed, listening to Angie excitedly explaining tarot readings to Gonta. On her right Maki looks more thoughtful than irritated as Iruma heckles her with what looks like a deformed compass.

Saihara slowly realises that he's wedged between Kiibo's warm exoskeleton and Iruma’s spittle-filled chatter and he’s not afraid at all. He's lost. He can be suspicious of them all he wants, but the drive to do so is gone.

More importantly, he does not want to see any of them fail.

 

What is he going to do?


End file.
